


The Edge Of Yesterday

by GoWithTheFlo20



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Always A Girl Harry Potter - Freeform, Canon?, Darth Maul Lives, Dathomir (Star Wars), Dathomirian Culture, Dathomirian society, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Green Zabraks, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Neither Inherently Good Or Evil, Nightbrothers, Nightsisters (Star Wars), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyandry, Sith Apprentice/Master, Sith Code, Sith Holocron, Sith Training, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, Temporary Amnesia, The Dark Side of the Force, The Force Is Complex, Zabrak Harry Potter, Zabraks (Star Wars), never heard of her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23936584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoWithTheFlo20/pseuds/GoWithTheFlo20
Summary: Awaking in a cramped stasis pod hurtling through space, Helia Potter, suffering from amnesia, did not know how, when, where or why she got where she did, only that something inside, deep in her soul, was calling her on. Armed with a broken twig, her lack of memories, and a strange metal tetrahedron, she has to swiftly piece together her shattered past or pay the ultimate price.The death and destruction of everything she loves.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano, Darth Maul/Harry Potter, Feral/Harry Potter, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Savage Opress/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	1. Prologue

She was trapped in that hazy land between places. Not quite lucid, but no longer dreaming. In fact, she did not recall her dream at all, although she was positive she _had_ been dreaming when she drifted to sweetly soft awareness, buckled in the transport pod of a small space faring vessel. A patchwork craft built from a flotilla of damaged debris scavenged off the outer rim scrapyards.

Neither did she remember the day prior, or the week before that, or the month that followed, or the year that proceeded.

Indeed, there was not much she recollected at all.

Not her name.

Not her home.

Not her family or friends, if she had any.

It was if one windy, volatile day, she had yawned herself into existence. A pull and a pop, and bang, she was real. Like the birth of a star, hewn from its own gravitational wrench, she sparked to fiery life from nothing. 

_Well,_ not nothing, exactly. 

Even stars were formed from gases. 

She too must have building blocks. 

Like her English accent, which she could not remember how she had obtained, or what precisely this _English_ was. 

Or the scar on her hand; I Must Not Tell Lies. 

They came from somewhere, as stars came from gases. Nevertheless, as she looked back, tried and ached and pushed and pulled and-

_Nothing._

Yes, she knew she had a past. She could sense it, in a way, She was aware that she had forgotten as one is aware of cavities, and black-holes, and silhouettes. It’s the vacuity that draws the eye, and the curiosity that keeps it. She knew something should be there, and yet, she could not say what or who or when.

Perhaps she _had_ thought herself into being one day. A creation of her own making, because, she was sure, she had left herself a breadcrumb trail. While she didn’t remember much at all, she did remember something. The three needs, she called them. 

She needed to escape those hunting her.

She needed to get to Dathomir.

She needed to find her father.

She could not specify a particular name of the shadows pursuing her, she only felt their breath on her neck, even here. She did not know what city or place this Dathomir was, only felt a sense of distant… Home, calling her back. She could not picture her father’s face, but she knew, simply knew, if she were to look at it, she would _see_. 

They said there were songs out there for the lost.

For those who mislaid their way.

Sad hymns that drew them home once more, if you sang it just right.

She thought she heard that song then, as she drifted awake completely. Sweet and pure as morning dew, strong and high and-

Or it was an alarm, as the pod flashed a sickening blue that penetrated her fluttering eyelids. She groaned as her hand snapped up, shielding her eyes from the blinding light. 

The hatches of the stasis pod popped as they disengaged, steam wafting as the lid to the hull cracked and lifted.

She tumbled out into a heap of limbs, face grinding against the grated, grubby floor. 

Guttural laughter, more bark than chuckle, echoed about her. 

"Easy there, kid. Take your time, ease into it. Flopping about will only make it worse. The stasis drugs this side of the Galaxy are cheaper than Pyke’s whores, and twice as likely to scramble your brain. Give it time, you’ll get around to yourself again. Here, let me help ya."


	2. Into The Unknown

She didn’t have much time to reply before two robust hands were at her shoulders, hauling her upright, settling her back onto her unsteady feet. There was a whirring in her head, a whine of grinding cogs not connecting. Suddenly, she was-

_A structure made of stone. A hall with a thousand eyes staring back from gilt frames. A woman stood at the far door, hands braced up, glowing, straining to hold back the flood coming-_

_Screaming._

_There was so much screaming coming from outside._

_Screams she knew._

_The woman glanced back, frantic, mouth stern, the salt white hair of her severe bun falling around her face-_

_Blood stained._

_“I can’t hold this much longer! Run!”_

_A girl beside her snatched at her shoulders and arms, anywhere she could find purchase, yanking, tear tracks white on the grime of her face, hair an explosion of caramel singed black by dust and ash._

_“Helia! It’s too late! There’s nothing we can do! We have to go! Move!”_

_Pssshhew._

_A light._

_Blue._

_A beam of light and force and-_

_It pierced the door, slicing, slashing-_

_The woman holding it back-_

_She saw it come through her back._

_There was no blood._

_Not so much as a drop._

_There was only light and death._

_There was ever only light and death._

_A gasp of fading breath._

_“McGonagall!”_

_This scream was hers. She could feel it burn in her throat. Hot and angry like a dying star exploding. Grieved._

_“Helia! No! We need to go! They can’t find you! Please! Run!”_

_The girl tugged her away, down the hall, and she watched the woman fall to the ground, hand slapping granite, still and cold and-_

_She was looking right at her. Those blue eyes unfocused. Face slack. She was looking right at her and-_

_The door burst open._

Abruptly, she stumbled back a step when the hands vanished, hitting her shoulder into the cracked pod behind her. She felt breathless, as if all the air inside her lungs had been sucked out and replaced by flames torching her from the inside out. What was that? What-

“There we go. Good as new. Didn’t R’em tell you? No safer travel to be found around these parts than with me and the good ol’ Iridonia Reaper. Your credit was well spent. I appreciated the advance payment, by the way. Never know when one or two stowaways try to run without paying the fee.”

Right… Yes. Whatever that was, she wasn’t there. She was… She didn’t know where she was apart from it smelled thickly of oil and iron. Wires. There was so many wires and cogs and nuts and bolts, and so different to the stone place, slick with moss and hills. And someone.

Someone who had grabbed her from the floor. 

When she finally managed to stay upright, find a way to struggle in a gaunt inhale that doused the fire in her chest, she glanced up, and up, and up, and up. R’em, or so she guessed his name was, as this ship must be Iridonia Reaper, was a being of immense quantity in every regard. He spun on a single point, from which his legs, all eight of them, skittered out to clack on the meshed flooring of the narrow runway.

Waist down, he was all arachnid, but upwards, if you were brave enough to venture that way, was some sort of chaotic jumble of reptilian and toad, with a broad and blunted whiskered face and two oversized black marbled eyes. 

“Do I know you?”

He scuttled closer as she braced herself, for what, she did not know, she did not know much of anything, but all he did was send one of his spindly steel legs out to sharply kick at the bottom of the pod she had fell from.

A hidden panel flipped free, another wisp of smoke rising in the murky air as a drawer came bursting out. _Bursting like the door had burst open and-_

He bent in half, even so, he was still so much larger than her, and promptly plucked out a frayed and threadbare bundle swathed in clothe.

“As well as any passenger knows their temporary captain, I suppose. There we go, the lodger…”

He squinted over to the flashing panel beside the pod, plump fingers tapping away on the screen.

“Helia Potter, nineteen-year-old Zabrak female, paid in full at Boshnik Dock’s three weeks ago. Wanted direct travel to Dathomir, but we don’t go that far, so settled for a drop off at Yipnara… Blah, blah, blah… _There_ , left herself a recording before stasis due to previously ‘unexpected’ reaction to the stasis drugs.”

He stymied back a step, giving her… Helia, just enough room to squeeze through in the confined space, nodding at the screen.

“Go ahead. It’s all there.”

Gingerly, Helia edged closer, keeping herself steadied at the wall, eyeing the blue screen wearily before glancing back. R’em nodded encouragingly.

“Press the engage button… The big circle one.”

Helia did, and her hand snapped back to her chest as the screen throbbed in a blur of hot light. The mist faded, leaving a woman’s face peering back at her. Not a woman… Her. That was _her_. She knew that intrinsically, as instinctually as if she was staring at her reflection in a mirror.

Though the woman was made of cerulean, jittering light, she knew that hair, braided down her back in a twisted rope of coils, was black so dark it was almost blue. She knew that skin, from toe to head, was a green like sunbeams bouncing off an emerald, interspersed with black ink markings like roots of a tree. A tree of her life right there, born on her skin, if only she knew what the symbols and curves meant and-

How did she know that?

Where had she-

Nothing. She could not remember. Something was there, she knew it, buried deep, but she simply could not reach it.

Yet.

The green skin was a shade lighter than her eyes. She knew that curl of lip, slope of nose, lightning scar and crown of thorny horns around her head.

She knew… And it felt wonderful.

“I’m Helia Potter, and if this message has gotten to who it is supposed to, _me,_ than we have much to talk about and no time. Trust R’em. He’s a quibbling malingerer who only cares for credits, but he’s an honest one. The best, I’m afraid, you’re going to find around these parts.”

Suddenly, the fleeting feeling of wonder was replaced with sinking dread, as the woman, Helia, _her,_ spoke on.

“I know you’re confused. I was too. That is why I tell you now, as I know you are planning already, do _not_ go back to Boshnik Dock’s to try and retrace your path. We’ve done that twice already, and only lost more time. _They_ will be there by now. Waiting. R’em should have our things. Take it and do not, for a second, for a minute, for _anything,_ lose what the satchel contains. Kill, if you have to.”

Helia in blue sighed.

“They are coming. We must get to Dathomir. It’s our only hope. I know you feel it too, inside. Do not ignore that voice. It has kept us alive through Tom and Albus and the-… Listen, and tread carefully. Be brave like Gryffindor, but for Merlin’s sake, be the Slytherin you really are. Before you go, for time is short and I need to go into stasis soon, I have one last piece of advice.”

Her chin raised, nostrils flaring.

“If trouble comes, if you find yourself in a sticky situation, there will be a certain… Urge you will have. Whatever you do, do _not_ do it. Not once. Not ever. Not until we get to Dathomir. That’s how they found us. They can sense you when you use it. They _will_ find you. They _will_ take you. We don’t have a second chance. Only this. Now go, get to Dathomir, find father, and sweet Circe… Give them hell.”

The recording cut off.

R’em slapped a friendly hand down on her shoulder, grinning, showing off his keen, pointed teeth.

“Big ball of doom and gloom you were, weren’t you? Your things.”

He held out the bundle for Helia to take, which she did, cradling it close to her stomach. She held it tight like it was the only thing she had in the entire universe. Perhaps because it _was._ She had nothing. Just this sack, the impulse to get to Dathomir, and a sinking feeling of being hunted.

Helia peered up at R’em, eyebrows drawn down tight over her hooded gaze.

He must have seen the recording. He must have heard her warnings; heard the strain she had placed on the safety of the bundle clasped in her arms.

Had he peaked?

Had he _taken?_

What if something was missing now? What if-

“Don’t you want to know what’s inside?”

He shook his big head frantically, holding his hands up as if to ward her, and the bundle, off.

“You paid me extra to keep my nose far away, and I’m old enough to know better than sticking it somewhere it doesn’t belong. In my line of business, you don’t see nothing or hear nothing, and you keep all your limbs. Learn that lesson many moons ago.”

Ah, once burnt and twice as shy. Wistfully, he looked down to his darting steel legs, perhaps he was imagining his old pair, before he began to make his way down the runway in a putter and patter, squinting back over his heavy shoulder to Helia.

“You going to start moving, kid? Yipnara’s the closest I could bring you to Dathomir, but that doesn’t mean it’s _close_ , if you catch my drift. You have a long way to go yet, and if you want to stay here another night, it won’t be free. I ain’t running no charity. You coming or not?”

Helia hurried after him.

Helia stood beside R’em on the boarding ramp of the ship, staring out at the landing pad before it, and further, Yipnara itself. It was a bright place, almost blinding to Helia’s sensitive eyesight, another new thing she had learned in a matter of minutes, how much yellow light scorched her eyes, with two suns rising high into the weak pale sky. 

It was a craggy place, she thought. Hewn of cliffs and bluffs. A sea of sand and rusted towers, crooked pikes, and hobbled huts pressed closely together in speckled rings of life between the sandstorm dunes.

"Oh, Helia, one more thing?"

Helia, or so the lodger of the spacecraft stated she had signed her name as when boarding, carrying her small bundle, slowly turned around.

R'em's blunt, rounded face was stern, his toad-like eyes blinking out of sync.

"Careful, alright, kid? Try covering up. Hutt's collectors prowl Yipnara's streets. I ain't never seen a green Zabrak before, and I've seen a lot of folk coming and going through these backwaters. Hutt and his ilk would pay a pretty credit for merchandise so rare. Just... Be careful. Watch your step out there."

From behind his back, R’em produced a tattered hooded cloak and a strip of cloth, a makeshift scarf, perfect for concealing her face. Gently, she took them, stroked a thumb over the rough drapery. Even this, something so plain as fabric, felt new and strange in her hands.

“Thank you… For everything.”

Helia thought the brown rinse to his face might be a blush, but he recovered quickly, gruffly coughing and folding his arms over his barrelled chest.

“Don’t mention it. _Really_ , don’t. I have a reputation to preserve, and I don’t need some fresh-faced kid ruining it. Off you pop, and if you ever need quick travel back to mainland, if you have the credit, give me a transmission. I left the Iridonia Reapers communication code in the cloak pocket.”

Helia nodded, sensing the unspoken goodbye, wrapping the crude scarf around her neck and the bottom half of her face, before she slipped the cloak around her shoulder, clasped it tight, and flipped the hood over her horned head.

With a lazy wave, she disembarked into the unknown.

She had no where else to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW:
> 
> Feral did not have many chances to go off world, but when he did, especially on occasions such as this, out from under the watchful eyes of his fellow Nightbrothers and older brother Savage, he made the most of it.

**Author's Note:**

> NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW:
> 
> "Oh, Helia, one more thing?"
> 
> Helia, or so the lodger of the spacecraft stated she had signed her name as when boarding, carrying her small bundle, slowly turned around. 
> 
> R'em's blunt, rounded face was stern, his toad-like eyes blinking out of sync. 
> 
> "Careful, alright, kid? Try covering up. Hutt's collectors prowl Yipnara's streets. I ain't never seen a green Zabrak before, and I've seen a lot of folk coming and going through these backwaters. Hutt and his ilk would pay a pretty credit for merchandise so rare. Just... Be careful. Watch your step out there."


End file.
